


Trapped

by JantoJones



Series: Brief Briefings [3]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:25:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6414421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Napoleon finds himself in need of rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trapped

Peeking over the edge of the ornamental fountain, Napoleon looked forlornly at the gun he'd dropped. The black weapon stood out against the lush green lawn, almost mocking the predicament he'd got himself into. There was simply no way of recovering it without drawing fire from the gunmen on the balcony, overlooking the garden. Shuffling into a seated position, Napoleon pulled out his communicator and called Illya.

"I'm in a little trouble, Tovarisch," he whispered into the device.

"Where did you find a woman in an almost empty building?"

"Are you still in the house?" Solo asked, choosing to ignore the barbed question.

The assignment they were on concerned the retrieval of THRUSH personnel details from the private home of one of the hierarchy's treasurers. Upon entering the house, they'd split with the plan for whoever found the files to call the other. They were then to leave and rendezvous at the vehicle they had left nearby. The owner of the house was out of town and Napoleon, who had successfully found the information they wanted, had managed to get himself cornered by the two man security team.

"I haven't quite left yet," Illya told his partner. "Where are you?"

"I'm trapped in the garden," Solo explained. "If I move from this position I'm dead. There are two Thrushies on a balcony with their guns trained on me."

Napoleon could almost hear the eye roll which went along with the very audible sigh.

"Can't you shoot them?"

Another sighed followed Napoleon's confession that he had dropped his gun.

"Hey," Solo protested. "There were guys shooting at me at the time."

"I shall be with you shortly," Illya assured, before signing off.

Tucking the communicator away, Napoleon risked another peek at the Thrushies. As he twisted himself, around, one of the guards made the most of the brief glimpse of the agent's left shoulder, and took a shot. The bullet grazed Napoleon's upper arm and he dropped back down with a hiss.

"Trust me to find the only feathered goon who can shoot straight," he muttered to himself.

After a few minutes of waiting for Illya to play his hand, Napoleon was beginning to wonder if the Russian was ever coming to his aid. It wasn't until he heard his name being called that he realised his rescue had been implemented. Looking back to the balcony, he could see the insensible forms of the two guards through the gaps in the balustrade. Standing between them, with an impatient stance, was Illya.

"Are you ready now?" he called down. "Don't forget your gun."

With that, Illya turned back and headed back through the house. Napoleon caught up with him at the main door.

"Thanks for the rescue," he said. "I can't believe I got into a rookie mess."

Illya smiled and offered a 'you're welcome'. As they climbed into the vehicle, the smile disappeared at Napoleon's next utterance.

"It's just as well I've got my trusty side-kick."


End file.
